Moonspear ring of fire

With a new opponent on the other end of the raccoon, his brothers and sister had taught him never to underestimate--or to let his guard down for too long unless he was ready to deal with what that could invite. He might have even come in a little overzealous at first, true to form as a confident puppy with a few of siblings to often take it out on and vice versa for them; he was well aware of what he could do, and sometimes, how he needed to do it to not be lost among the others who were just as vigorous as him too.

Dragomir held fast, and adjusted himself accordingly.. so Antares took that as a good cue to amp it up if he wasn't going to get away an easy, early slip on him so soon. But, happy with these developments as his eyes tracked the other boy's waving tail just past him, he kept answering back with short, rough jerks to his head, still trying to stay heavily planted. He saw the worth of the anchor approach, obviously, but he was starting to feeling a little itchy to move more... if only.

He knew something that was pretty annoying on the other end of times like these, likely a trick his sister had used on him before--where she drug the game (by way of his feet when his eyes went where his teeth were) into an adjacent tangling mess of dried up fern stems. So, with his persistent hauling backward, he started to pull veering more towards his right with his hind hip, attempting to control more momentum than just his own mere tug, simultaneously starting to suggest a circling spiral--in his best hopes, though, as he stared Dragomir down intently on the other end of the tough skin to see if he could get him to slack off, drag his way, falter... ideally. Antares didn't know if he could even move him at all, or if he had worse waiting to answer with now that the game could really get good.